New Beginnings
by Kashtien James
Summary: Charlotte King is the new pediatric attending at Seattle Grace-Mercy West. Owen Hunt immediately finds conflict with her, and sparks fly. Complete as is.
1. Discarded Love

**A/N: I'm not sure how everyone will take to this, but I'm excited about the storyline. Owen and Charlotte would make a very hot couple, I think, and I'm about to find out. By the way (as if you didn't already know this) I own nothing. It all belongs to Shonda Rhimes. **

It had been two months since Cristina had told him that they were over, served him with divorce papers, and left Seattle. Apparently she had been offered a job in New Jersey, and had taken it. She was gone, their marriage was over, and everything around Owen was changing.

Lying awake in an on-call room bed, he spun the smooth piece of gold metal around his ring finger. That was all it was: a piece of solid gold metal. It no longer meant anything to him. He couldn't allow it to. After sixty-seven days of fighting himself, he finally tugged the ring from his finger, holding it in the palm of his hand in the darkness. It was cold, as was the love it had formerly symbolized. The day she left replayed vividly and consecutively in his mind ten hundred times a day. This, he was sure, was worse than the physical pains he had endured on the battlefield.

"_You can't just walk away from a marriage, Cristina! It's not surgery; there isn't someone else waiting with scalpel in hand to take your place."_

"_Yes, I can, and I am. Nothing you say or do will stop me now. It's over. Do I have to spell it out for you?"_

_He knew that his attempts were useless. He knew that she was leaving no matter what he told her or did. Maybe the fact that he knew she was leaving anyway was what made him want to fight so hard. He couldn't change her mind. _

_When Cristina looked up, Owen was giving her those adorable puppy dog eyes. She knew that she couldn't leave him without at least giving him some sort of explanation. "You need me to be somebody that I can't be. You need to change me, and so you try to change me without even realizing it. I can't change. I don't want to. So let go - for your own good."_

_Careful with his words, as he always was, Owen was on the edge of begging, "The woman I love leaving won't do me any good. Don't you see that? We can get through this together."_

"_That's just it, Owen. I don't want to."_

She had packed her things and left. Sixty-seven days ago, Cristina had left and she wasn't coming back. At first he had believed that she would. He had truly believed that she would be back. Now he knew better. He was finished with trying to convince himself otherwise.

The door opened, allowing light to spill in from the outer world of the hospital. His quiet was invaded for a moment until Callie closed the door was again. She flicked on the light, causing him to blink in a search for adjustment.

The look on her face told him that she wasn't here about a patient. She was bothering him for personal reasons, which struck a cord of annoyance within him. Just because they were friends didn't entitle her to the right to invade his loneliness.

"There's a new attending pediatric surgeon. She's blond. She has a southern accent, and she's bossy. Mean." Torres took a seat at the end of his bed, her arms crossed and a pout displayed on her lips.

Owen sat up, bringing his knees to his chest, "How can a pediatric surgeon be mean? She has to deal with kids. Kids will break down in tears for no reason whatsoever. Imagine how they'd deal with a mean doctor."

"I didn't say she was mean to kids. She's mean to interns, residents . . . other attendings. You should have seen how she just told off Shepherd."

He actually found amusement in that, "Shepherd got told off?" His eyes were wide, a smirk teasing his lips.

"You should've seen the look on his face. And Meredith stood by in shock. It was quite the seen."

"The Chief won't fire her." Standing, Owen slipped on his Nike running shoes without untying them.

"Why not?" Callie seemed taken aback, as if she had been wishing that the new surgeon would immediately be escorted from the premises.

"Because we need her. Robbins quit and whats-his-face was fired. We're running out of options."

Tightening his scrub pants, he glanced down at his watch. It was really no wonder that he was starving. After his surgery ended shortly after ten, he'd removed himself from any signs of life without eating lunch. It was now four in the afternoon. Skipping breakfast probably hadn't been any help.

"Where are you going?" she asked him, obviously wishing that she would stay and be his confidante.

"To eat," he answered, moving for the door. He really did hate to cut his conversation with Callie short. Over the last two months, they had become good friends. With Arizona leaving for Africa and Cristina leaving for New Jersey, they had something in common. And it wasn't one of those stupid little things like they both purchased their underwear at the same clothing store. Having the person you love leaving is pretty significant.

With one hand on the doorknob, as an almost afterthought, Owen dug into his shirt pocket for the ring that he had slyly dropped in before. As always, the temperature of it caught him off guard - as cold as ice. "Catch," he told her, and tossed it across the small room.

A question took over her expression, "What the hell do you want me to do with this?"

"Get rid of it. I don't care, just make sure I never see it again."

With that, he was gone. To eat.

Just as Owen was about to sit down, his pager went berserk. It was an emergency, and obviously he was needed quickly. Reluctantly leaving his food after a single bite, he rushed down to the pit where chaos engulfed him.

"Dr. Hunt!"

"Hunt!"

"Owen!"

People were shouting at him from all directions, but he saw the problem without their help. In the middle of his workspace there sat two stretchers with medical personnel surrounding them. It wasn't the simplicity of that situation that astounded him and stopped him in his tracks, though. It was what lie on the stretchers. They each held the body of a child. Or, more precisely, the remaining heap of the body of a child.

Snatching the chart of the one on the right, he quickly read over it but didn't catch much. His mind wasn't working properly. "What happened here? Someone fill me in."

He didn't even register who's voice was coming at him, "Kids got into an argument halfway up the Ferris wheel. One tumbled out and took the other one down with him. Both have sustained severe injuries. Broken bones, internal bleeding. Everything you can think of."

"Oh. Wonderful." Owen turned to the second child and grabbed the boy's chart, glancing over it. "Alright. Get Torres down here, now! And the new pediatric attending. I'm going to need lots of hands."

As he exited the operating room two hours later, Owen dragged a hand across his rough jaw, pulling off his green scrub cap. The first boy hadn't managed the fight for life for more than twenty minutes, so all hands had been redirected to the second boy: Samuel Briar.

The boy was still alive, and still needed exhilarating amounts of surgery.

And Owen was still starving.

Collapsing against the wall, he hung his hand between his knees, fighting a headache. There was a tap on his shoulder, and he looked up to see the new pediatric surgeon. King was her name.

"If you ever tell me what to do in my OR again, I'll feed you your own testicles. Are we clear?"

In shock, Owen stood, raising a brow. "Excuse me? I believe that was my OR you were in. You're completely out of line."

The woman looked taken aback, as if nobody ever questioned her. "I may be new to this specialty, but I'm not new to medicine. I'm not out of line, doctor. I believe you need to reevaluate the situation."

The small blond was something fierce. A force to be reckoned with.

"If we would have done things your way, that boy would be dead. When I say we do things dirty and clean up later, that's how we do it. Are we clear?" He was mocking her, but not out of spite. She was new, and she needed to understand her place.

"What's your name?"

"You haven't earned the right to know. Now, I'll have my resident follow up on Samuel when he wakes up. Until I need your help, stay away from my patient."

Okay, technically, Samuel wasn't Owen's patient. He was their patient. But if the new girl wanted to play dirty, so be it. He wasn't in the mood for stuck up know-it-alls.

Nodding his head, Owen left for the cafeteria. He needed food and Advil.

**A/N: I know that right now you don't know much about why Charlotte is in Seattle or how she got into pediatric surgery, but the next chapter will be from her perspective. I hope everyone enjoyed, and please review! As a side note, I'm posting this in Grey's as opposed to crossover because it does take place solely at Seattle Grace-Mercy West Hospital.**


	2. Tour Guide

**A/N: To clear up some confusion, I would like to inform everyone who doesn't already know this, that Charlotte King is not a character of my own creation. She is the amazing brilliance of Shonda Rhimes, played by KaDee Strickland, on Private Practice. My reasons for posting this under Grey's Anatomy as opposed to the crossover section were listed in the last chapter, however, I'm switching it to the crossover section to see how well it works there. With that said, I realize that this story will have a large group of haters, but I don't care. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. I will not apologize for not being a fan of Cristina and Owen. On another note, I own nothing! :D**

Charlotte King hadn't been so cold before. She hadn't been so bitter against the world. But now . . . things had changed. They weren't the same without Cooper. She wanted to blame someone - him, even. The driver of the other vehicle. God. _Someone. _Living without him was nearly impossible. He'd been beside her through everything - Big Daddy's death, the attack, the recovery. Each and every significant event over the last few years of her life.

And now he was dead.

Every emotion within her was so utterly foreign. She was at a complete loss without him.

_Her phone started vibrating in her pants' pocket. Charlotte politely excused herself from the meeting she was in and made a quick dash for the hall. Her caller ID confirmed every one of her suspicions. _

_It was Cooper. Of course._

"_Charlotte King," she answered, knowing that the impersonal formality was not necessary but continuing to answer the same way each time he or anybody else called. _

"_Are you in a meeting?" he asked, excitement written throughout his tone._

"_You better hope not, Mister."_

"_Good. Okay, so I know we're not supposed to see one another tonight, but I'm not superstitious. Meet me at the Sheraton at nine."_

"_Not a chance in hell, Cooper. I will not let you jinx this wedding."_

"_I knew you would say that," he confided, laughing. "Fine. If it makes you happy."_

_Charlotte found herself smiling as she entered her office, "Damn you, Coop. Now all I'm gonna be thinking about tonight is dirty, hot, night-before-wedding sex. Thanks a lot."_

_He couldn't contain his laughter, but managed to tell her through chuckles, "No problem."_

"_Hey," she began._

"_Mm?"_

"_I love you. Now stop callin' me."_

"_I love yo-" Charlotte heard the sound of the phone dropping, and the line went dead. She assumed he had made the wise decision and not reached for his cell phone while driving._

Forty minutes after their phone call had ended, Charlotte received a call from from a hospital on the opposite side of town. Cooper had been in an accident. He had sustained injuries to his head and abdominal area.

Charlotte knew what came next. She had known what they would tell her.

"_Mr. Freedman died at two seventeen today. We did everything that we could to try and . . . " _She still heard the man's words ringing through her head as she walked the halls of Seattle Grace-Mercy West. That day would never leave her. Instead of a wedding, there was a funeral.

She left the practice only weeks later and decided to enter a new field, in honour of Cooper. Even if she didn't like kids, she could handle them. She would. For Cooper.

Having surgery every day was a new concept to her, but she liked it. The kids grew on her. She may not have been the pediatrician that he had been, but she was one damn good pediatric surgeon.

Taking into consideration that it was her first day at the hospital, Charlotte would say that she was doing well. Aside from losing her first patient, a small incident in the OR, and the subsequent cocky redhead she'd had to deal with afterward, everything was running smoothly.

A voice came from behind her, and Charlotte turned to see a young nurse with a chart in hand, "Excuse me, Dr. King? Samuel Briar is awake. The police are asking for a statement from him."

Anger flashed over he face, "They want a statement from a ten year old boy who just crawled off of his death bed? He doesn't even know his brother's dead!"

The nurse looked shocked, as if nobody had ever questioned her relayed messages before, "I'm sorry, doctor. It's procedure."

"Well screw procedure!"

"The officers tend to be quite persistent. I don't think they'll leave without talking to the patient."

Right. Charlotte may be tough, but she couldn't fight the law. Whatever the case, the police needed a statement, and they would get one. Her way and only her way, though. That's how it was going to work. The redhead Mr. I'm-too-good-to-tell-you-my-name could find his own patient. Samuel Briar was hers.

"Let me talk to him first," she told the nurse, "And tell them not to mention the fact that Milo's dead. He doesn't need to be cryin' when their tryin' to get answers."

"Alright, Dr. King. Will do."

The nurse and the doctor turned their separate ways to do their separate tasks. Charlotte's was to talk to Samuel. He needed to know what the situation was without knowing the entirety of the problem. Whatever the case, he needed his parents to be there when he found out about his brother. When she reached the boy's room, she was shocked to see that the redhead had beat her in. _Oh God, _she thought to herself, _he better not be breaking the news. _

Interrupt? Wait? Cut in? Let the man handle it? She juggled with her choices, and came to the conclusion that she had only ever known one man that could do things right. And he was dead.

"Excuse me, Dr. -" . . . oh yes. She had nearly forgotten. She didn't know the doctor's name. "Can I have a word with Samuel?"

"I'm speaking with him at the moment. He'll be at your full disposal when I'm finished." He was bluffing. Because Charlotte knew that if the man could stop her from speaking with his patient, he would. The humorous part was that the boy wasn't either of their patients. He belonged to her, him, and the tall dark-haired woman. Then again, if they were being specific, he didn't belong to any of them. His parents were on their way.

"May I have a word with you?"

The man stood, "I'll be right back, bud," he said to Samuel, then closed the room door behind him. "How may I help you, Dr. King?"

"What's your name?"

When he narrowed his eyes at her and offered only a smirk, she reached forward and roughly flipped his identification tag over to see his picture and name. "Dr. Hunt," stressing the _t_, "I thought that I was quite clear when I told you that Samuel Briar was my patient."

"Would you like to take this to the Chief?"

"Do I need to?"

Moments later, the two surgeons were in the Chief's office, their raised voices making him wish that he had earplugs. Neither of their words could be understood amid the chaos the two were creating. When he had heard enough shouting, Richard stood from his desk, raising his hands to shush them. They both went silent. Even Charlotte knew that when the boss gave an order, she had to listen or her job was on the line.

"Hunt," the big man's commanding voice came, "because you two seem to have such a problem with one another, your job now is to make sure that Dr. King knows the ropes around here. Give her a tour of the hospital and gain her some respect with the interns and residents. I remember that not so long ago you were the new kid on the block. You know how hard things can be."

Charlotte was quick to intercept, "Sir, I'm sure that isn't necessary. I can learn my way around just fine by myself."

"Dr. Hunt?" the Chief questioned, ignoring her plea.

"Yes, Chief," Hunt answered.

Maybe things weren't going so smoothly.

**A/N: Review please! Next chapter will be again from Owen's POV. I think I'll bounce back and fourth with each chapter. More Callie/Owen friendship will come, as well. :D**


	3. Bargaining

**A/N: I own nada. It's all Shonda! The negative reviews that I am getting are ridiculous, and they won't stop me from writing. I realize that there there may be a few flaws, but I DO know my characters. As far as "killing" Cooper goes, I absolutely adore Cooper. I adored Dell and George and Denny as well. Killing characters makes for good storylines. **

"I don't need your help. I can find my way around a hospital just fine," Charlotte told Owen as they left the Chief's office.

He didn't even glance her way, "I didn't intend to give you any."

Stealing a glance to analyze the woman's reaction, he saw that she was slightly taken aback. Yeah, she would have expected him to follow through with what he had said.

"In that case," she began after only a brief pause, "I think it's important for you to follow through with your word to the Chief. Would hate for it to get back to him that you're not doin' the job he asked, wouldn't you?"

Mhm. He should have seen it coming. "No," he deflected, "you see, what I lack in the ability to deal with stubborn women I make up for with surgical skills. The Chief only wanted us out of his hair."

Silence. Thank God.

But Owen knew better than to expect it to last, so he broke it before she had the chance to, "Samuel Briar is from this point on _our _patient, as well as Dr. Torres'. If we can both handle that like adults, we can make the patient our first priority and be done with one another as soon as possible." He turned down the next hall, knowing that she had to continue the opposite way to speak with the police if she wanted to.

"Dr. Hunt!" came her southern from behind him, "Trauma and peds tend to come together often. I suggest we make this a long term agreement."

Nodding over his shoulder, Owen gave no other response as he watched Callie walk past the nurses' station and stealthily moved to grab her before she disappeared from his view.

"Hey you," she greeted him, a smile on her face.

"Hey. The Chief put me in charge of her."

"Oh. Okay. Who's her?"

"_Her!"_ he stressed to his friend, wondering why she wasn't getting the picture.

"Oh." Callie shook her head, "No. Still not getting it. Owen, you're going to need to be a little bit more specific if you'd like to have a two sided conversation."

"Robbins' replacement."

"Ohhhhhhh. And?"

They made their way into a supply closet to have some privacy. It was one of their rituals. They did so on a regular basis without discussing it, "And I was mean, I think. But so was she. Needless to say, we didn't get off on the right foot."

"Well why were you mean?"

Well why are you acting like my mother? Owen wanted to ask, but he restrained himself.

"When we were in the OR, we had a disagreement. And then the way she argued with me . . . it was too familiar."

"Oh."

"Oh what?" She wasn't giving him enough to work with.

"You're gonna fall for Arizona's replacement. That's just awkward."

Screwing up his face, Owen clearly thought that the idea was absurd, "I'm _not _going to fall for her. Ever. Completely out of the question."

"But she _is _hot, right? You have to agree with me there." Callie opened the door of the supply closet, leading the way out. A passing nurse gave her the look that they always got. Why was it that everyone thought they were sleeping together just because they talked to one another. Stupid, irrational people.

"No."

Tapping his playfully on the arm, she gave him "the look" that clearly said she saw right through him. "You're lying."

"So?" Owen smirked, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Wanna know how to make her cooperate?"

Well of course he did, "Is that a trick question?"

"Kiss her."

His eyes shot open in surprise. Chuckling, he managed, "She's probably married to some guy who carries a gun or a knife or something."

"You scared?" Oh Lord. She was starting with her teasing tone.

"No. It's just . . . she-"

"I don't wanna hear the excuses. Twenty bucks says you don't kiss her before the end of the day."

"You're serious."

"Oh, I'm serious."

She was serious. She was seriously serious. Seriously? Owen couldn't turn down the bet, but he also couldn't kiss The Replacement. It was wrong on so many levels. He hadn't even known her an entire day. Then again, he'd barely known Cristina when he'd first kissed her, either. And there hadn't even been money involved in that case.

"Fifty," he suggested.

"Fifty. And you have to come back with your manhood in tact."

"Deal." They stopped, shook, and laughed. This was going to be interesting.

They walked their separate ways. Owen to the nurses' lounge to secure some free cake, as there was bound to be some. It was literally always some body's birthday, and he was always sure to be especially nice to the nurses.

And he was _still_ starving. Checking his watch, he saw that it was just slightly after eight. In an hour, his shift would be over. And thankfully, he wasn't on call that night.

After consuming some delicious cake that the nursing staff had so kindly offered him, he headed to the nurses' station to find it empty. Good. That meant he could page Dr. King himself.

No. He really couldn't.

But he had to.

Without bothering to fight his inner battles any longer, Owen paged King to an exam room for what he could pretend was a consult.

In moments, the blond entered the not-quite-spacious room. When she saw Hunt, a tone of skepticism overtook her features, "Where's the patient?"

"There is no patient."

"Then what the hell am I doin' here?" she turned to grab the door and leave, but Owen grabbed her wrist. The look on her face suddenly changed, "Do _not_ touch me."

He released his grasp, knowing that she wasn't about to give him the chance to do what he needed to. This was not going to end well. "I'll give you twenty-five dollars to kiss me." Half. That was an alright deal, wasn't it? Why was he bargaining over a bet?

"It would cost you a lot more than that to get a kiss out of me, Mister." She wasn't joking. Not even in the slightest.

"Name your price."

The stubborn blond crossed her arms across her chest, "Your head on a silver platter."

Now that was just rude. Simply rude. There was no point in replying to that. He obviously wasn't going to get his way. Stepping forward, he pinned her body against the door and crashed his lips against his colleague's. It was rough; violent. Needy.

Charlotte pushed the redhead away from her in seconds, and left. The last man she had kissed had been Cooper. Now that was gone. Forever.

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I'm uninspired here, but the updates will come :) Please review.**


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